Scorched Eggs Read Online Free

explosion?”
    â€œNot exactly,” said Doogie. He picked up his coffee cup and took a very deliberate sip. Watched out of the corner of his eye as the last customer got up and left.
    â€œThere’s something else going on here, isn’t there?” said Suzanne. “You’re already working on a theory.”
    Doogie hesitated for a moment. “Fire Chief Finley thought there might have been an accelerant.”
    â€œAn accident?” said Petra.
    â€œNo, an accelerant,” Doogie repeated.
    Toni frowned. “Oh, you mean like the fire accelerated and burned super fast? Like spontaneous combustion?”
    â€œNot exactly,” said Doogie. He looked around as if someone might be listening in. As if they weren’t the only ones hunched around the counter at the Cackleberry Club at four in the afternoon. “You ladies have to keep what I tell you under your hats, okay? I mean, you can’t be spreading this information all over town.”
    â€œWhat?” said Suzanne, her heart doing a little flip-flop. Then, when Doogie still seemed hesitant, she spoke the terrible words they’d all been thinking but hadn’t wanted to voice. “Are you saying the fire was deliberately set? That it was arson?”
    Doogie gave a kind of tight-lipped grimace. “It’s looking that way, yes.”
    â€œHow would you determine that for sure?” asked Toni.
    Doogie frowned. “For one thing, Chief Finley is talking about bringing in an arson investigator.”
    â€œOh my,” said Toni. “This is serious.”
    *   *   *
    â€œ C RAZY things like fires and arson aren’t supposed to happen in Kindred,” declared Petra.
    Sheriff Doogie had departed some fifteen minutes ago, a white bakery bag containing three sticky rolls clutched in his hand. Now the three of them were sitting in the Knitting Nest, trying to sort through and digest Doogie’s words. Though he hadn’t expanded on his arson theory, or said that he believed it was the absolute gospel truth, he’d certainly tap-danced around the idea.
    â€œIf it was arson,” said Toni, “then it was . . .”
    â€œIntentional,” said Suzanne.
    â€œExactly,” said Petra. “So who would . . . ?” She shook her head and dabbed a hankie to her eyes. For all of Petra’s toughness, she was still pretty much in shock.
    â€œWho indeed?” Suzanne murmured. She gazed about the Knitting Nest, the small shop that was adjacent to the café and right next door to their Book Nook. With hundreds of skeins of gorgeous yarn tucked into virtually every corner, and displays of knitting needles and quilt squares, it was a cheery little place. A kind of safe harbor. Women came from all over the tri-county area to settle into the comfy, rump-sprung chairs, work on their latest project, sip tea, and hang out. Generally, the Knitting Nest was Petra’s domain. She taught knitting classes several nights a week, always encouraging her knitters with smiles and creative suggestions on new stitches and techniques. And the colorful shawls, wraps, and sweaters she’d whipped up herself were artfully displayed on the walls.
    But today Petra’s heart was truly broken. And no kind words would mend it, no pair of smooth bamboo knitting needles would soften the look of despair on her face.
    â€œWe have to do something,” Petra said finally.
    Toni hunched her shoulders. “Do what? That’s easy to wish for from the cozy environs of the Knitting Nest, but how would we even begin to make things right?”
    â€œWell, we probably can’t do
that
,” said Petra. “Since the damage has already been done and Hannah is dead. But we can certainly do something about finding her some justice.”
    â€œHow about revenge?” said Toni. She prided herself on her feistiness. “That sounds good to me.”
    â€œYou know